The voice the voice it troubles you for there is no one there at all 
You have the choice, she could be black or white, 
you are not trapped (tricked?), you can rise or you can fall 

It’s not up to me, I’ve been caught in the lights 
I am no Houdini, I’ve been mesmerized 
By sights and sounds 
And the voice, the voice it’s calling you 
Calling you 

I feel a spy, he’s in my house, I see his prints upon my door 
I hang my paintings up so high, then I don’t appear so tall 

It’s up to you, your lips taste of wine 
And they cut me closer, oh God, they’re touching mine 
Oh, could this be [bad word] 
But the voice, the voice it’s calling you 

It’s not that I’m feeling sick (I feel insecure ?), 
that’s my last portrait in my room (there's/that's mother's portrait in my room) 
Oh no no no no no no no 
It’s just that I need to be reassured, like any other fool 
Oh no no no no no no no 
No no no 
No 
No 

Sunday is here, let’s make the break, let’s pretend 
Put down your books, pick up your friends 

There’s no time to lose, there’s no time at all 
There’s no time to lose, there’s no time 
Could this be you 
The voice (the voice), the voice (the voice) it’s calling you 
Oh, the voice (the voice), the voice (the voice) it’s calling you 
I hear that voice (the voice), the voice (the voice) it’s calling you 
Oh, the voice (the voice), the voice (the voice) it’s calling you